


When The Spear Breaks

by SomethingProfound



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blatant Kyra bias, Canon Typical Violence, Cutting out a lot of the AC lore tbh, F/F, Trying to give that whole Anais thing more depth, aaand canon typical murder/mayhem/tossing of people off cliffs, shoving more Greek mythology in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22847524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingProfound/pseuds/SomethingProfound
Summary: ‘You shall leave everything you love most dearly: this is the arrow that the bow of exile shoots first.’Kassandra, the path she walks and the people she meets, loves, kills.Snippets before, during and after Kassandra’s odyssey.
Relationships: Daphnae/Kassandra (Assassin's Creed), Kassandra & Phoibe (Assassin's Creed), Kassandra/Anais (Assassin’s Creed), Kassandra/Kyra (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	When The Spear Breaks

The afternoon sun burned hot in the clear sky, the light shattering when it hit the waters that surrounded Kephallonia. The sand was white, hot and giving beneath Kassandra’s feet as she  _ heaved -  _ feeling the strain of her muscles - and threw the man onto the ground.

The air left him a grunt as he hit the loose sand. Specks clung to his browned cheek and thick beard as he pushed himself up. 

“Kassandra, listen -”

“Give me the drachmae,” Kassandra said very calmly, brushing a few grains of sand off her chiton. Her heart was still a hard pound beneath her sternum. The heat and exertion had drawn beads of sweat from her forehead.

“I am an  _ honest  _ merchant-”

“You’re a thief.”

“I’m not giving that snake Markos anything!” he insisted.

She spread her hands, smiling a sharp smile like the cutting edge of a blade, “You’re not giving it to Markos - you’re giving it to me.”

She’d had to chase this  _ malakés  _ thief halfway across the island - and now he was caught but continued to be an idiot. 

It was insulting.

“Tell Markos to do his own dirty work -“ he began.

Kassandra punched him in the face. His nose broke under her fist with a satisfying crunch, even as the skin across her knuckles split. He howled, grabbing at his face.

“You broke my  _ nose!” _

“I’ll break more than that if you don’t give me my  _ fucking  _ money,” she said, grabbing him by the front of his chiton. 

“Go straight to Hades!”

Oddly brave, this thief. Most got a look at her sword, dented or not, and paid up. 

“Fine,” she said and hit him again.

* * *

Anais found Kassandra washing her hands in the stream near her small house, the blood dissipating into a pink-red cloud and her knuckles stinging. She heard the other woman long before she emerged from the trees, twigs cracking under her sandals. 

Anais was Kephallonian born and raised - her parents had been farmers before a bandit’s sword cut her father’s throat and sickness had taken her mother. She had not been raised to stalk or prowl. No one had put a wooden sword in her hand as soon as she was old enough to walk. 

Only a fool mistook that for a lack of courage, however, even if Anais paired her rare bravery with an even more uncommon kindness. 

“Hello, Anais.”

“You always hear me,” Anais complained. 

Kassandra turned to smile at her, shaking water droplets from her fingertips. Anais glanced at the pile of weapons she’d left on the bank - her chipped sword, hunter’s bow and the broken spear of her grandfather. Even another’s eyes lingering on the spear caused something to tighten in her like a vice - even though she loved Anais. 

A last ghost of her past, perhaps. Her mother’s voice whispering to her from across the Styx.  _ This is the spear of your grandfather, King Leonidas, broken at Thermopylai. You must never let it out of your sight.  _

“They say you beat Aiolos half to death,” Anais said, her mouth tightening. 

Her love had a tender heart - the same heart that had driven her to stand between one very foolish girl and the boys beating her.

Kassandra scoffed. “I hit him a few times - after chasing him from Sami to the beach. The fool still tried to refuse me what I was owed.”

“Kassandra-“ Anais began.

She waved an angry hand, “You know this is how I make my living. I didn’t hurt him seriously and he should know better. This is the way of Kephallonia. You pay what you owe or someone breaks your nose.”

She was what she was - a weapon. Once she had thought herself fated for something more than beating men over drachmas, but that was a long time ago. This was her world now. This island, its people, the dirty business of surviving. She tried to be kind where she could, but…

Anais raised her hands, a smile curving her lips, “Don’t shoot, misthios, don’t shoot!”

Kassandra shook her head fondly, despite herself. She reached for her sword - only to stop when Anais traced along her forearm and up to her bicep with one finger, lips parted and a familiar heat in her face. They had been lovers for two years, friends for longer, and that look in the other woman’s eyes still sent warmth through her, like sparks from a fire.

“Ah,” she said, amused, “I see how it is. Come to waylay me, have you?”

Anais dropped her hand, rolling her eyes. She had been easier to fluster when they had first become lovers. “No - Markos is looking for you.”

Markos was  _ always  _ looking for her. “Can we not speak of Markos right now?”

Kassandra caught Anais around the waist and pulled her close. Anais pressed one finger to her chest, a teasing restraint. “I really was a messenger.”

“Whatever he wants can wait,” she decided, “I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” She bent her head to kiss her and found her mouth, warm and soft, familiar desire waking in her belly, sliding her hands to her hips. Anais’ arms wrapped around her neck. 

Kassandra would be lying if she said that battle didn’t bring a certain thrill - but there wasn’t anything quite like having a beautiful woman in your arms. 

“Not here,” Anais said breathily when Kassandra began to kiss down her neck, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of her skin.

Kassandra stepped back with one more quick kiss and started gathering her weapons. “Home, then.”

Anais tangled her fingers with Kassandra’s and dragged her in the direction of her hovel.

* * *

The lamplight flickered across the smooth, bronze skin of Anais’ back. Kassandra breathed out, enjoying the weight of her lover curled against her. She combed her fingers through the other woman’s hair, satisfaction burning a soft flame within her. 

“I wish…” Kassandra began. Anais looked up at her, “What?”

“Never mind.” Sometimes, in moments like this, Kassandra wished she could be the person she knew that Anais wanted her tobe, though she’d never say it. Someone who didn’t have the restlessness that drove Kassandra from her bed in search of - drachmae, the thrill of the fight? The restlessness that made her dream of places far from here. 

Someone who could be content, with a home and a woman who loved her.

Anais propped herself up, frowning slightly. Her lips parted -  _ Thump. _

Someone was knocking at her door. Kassandra groaned and rolled over, dragging a hand across the curve of Anais’ hip. 

Kassandra!” She recognised the voice as one of the boys Markos paid to do the odd job for him. “Markos needs you!”

“You should go,” Anais murmured, “I will be here when you get back.”

Grumbling, she rose to her feet and dressed, securing her sword to her side and slinging her bow and quiver over her back. She threw her door open, bracing her fists against her hips and staring down at the boy. “Where is he?”

“Down by the docks, Kassandra!” He told her and then stuck out a hand. She pressed a single drachma into his hand and he ran off. 

She sighed, set her hand on the pommel of her sword and began walking. The sun dipped towards the sea. 


End file.
